


The One With Bonnie's Desk

by breeutiful



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeutiful/pseuds/breeutiful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel is a moaner.</p><p>She moans before she can stop herself – sweet-sounding, breathy moans as Frank runs his hands all over her body, palming her cheek, running his hand over her back, making her shudder. She pushes into his hand, crashes her lips up against his until he breaks away, giving a gruff chuckle. “Whoa, slow down, princess.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With Bonnie's Desk

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know when this is even set tbh. Enjoy! :)

Laurel is a moaner.

She moans before she can stop herself – sweet-sounding, breathy moans as Frank runs his hands all over her body, palming her cheek, running his hand over her back, making her shudder.She pushes into his hand, crashes her lips up against his until he breaks away, giving a gruff chuckle. “Whoa, slow down, princess.”

“Can’t,” she murmurs between kisses. She can’t get enough of him. She thinks about Kan in the back of her mind – it’s different with him. She can stop kissing Kan whenever she wants to… but with Frank? With Frank, he draws her in, makes it addictive, so much it’s almost impossible to stop. “They’re going to be back, Frank. Any minute now.”

The “gang” (as Connor calls them, somewhat ironically) went out to grab Chinese food and some coffee about half an hour ago – they’ve got a long night ahead of them, reading up to find some sort of loophole for their case. Bonnie and Annalise disappeared about two hours ago to chase up a lead on a witness.

Frank grips her by the waist with his strong hands, squeezing so tight like she’ll break away at any moment - even though there’s no chance in hell she’s about to stop. She’s too riled up. He walks them backwards until she feels her hips hit the desk.

Glancing over her shoulder, she looks back at Frank with wide eyes. “Frank, this is Bonnie’s – I mean, we can’t just –“

Frank ignores her. In one swift movement, he pushes the immaculately organised case files and pens that span Bonnie’s desks to the floor and wraps one strong arm around her waist, lifting her up in one swift motion. 

Frank starts to kiss at her neck, nipping and teasing with scrapes of his teeth. His stubble rubs roughly against her expanse of her neck and goddamnit, if that doesn't make her writhe. His fingers play with the buttons of her shirt, slowly slipping them through the holes, one by one.

“Do you know,” he begins quietly, “how long I’ve been wanting to do this? Wanted to be inside you again?” It's only been two days (two days since they fucked on Annalise Keating's porch) but it feels like it's dragged out so much longer, not that she'll admit it.

Laurel rolls her eyes, almost imperceptibly but Frank must catch it before he nips a bit harder on her neck this time. She doesn't catch the low, throaty moan that escapes her lips in time. He hasn't nipped her hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a mark... goddammit.  Frank looks at her, a cocky grin crossing his lips. “Like that, do you?”

“Shut up, Frank,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. A small smile quirks the corners of her lips. It quickly drops away as Frank runs a hand up her thigh, two fingers pressing firmly against the in-seam of her jeans. "Not appreciating the commentary, huh?"

Laurel tries her best not to squirm down onto his fingers. She doesn't want to give away just how much she wants him to touch her, how desperate she is for it... and then all of a sudden Frank looks at her with those knowing blue eyes and crooks his fingers, rubbing her through her jeans. Laurel's head falls back as she lets out a small hiss between her teeth. "Hmm.. sounds like you might be appreciating some _thing_ ," he says, eyes bright and teasing. "Let's take a closer look, shall we?"

Frank moves his fingers away from where they're rubbing her gently and Laurel groans, softly, at the loss of contact. But then his fingers are at the front of her jeans, unbuttoning them slowly, so slowly that she wants to just slap his hands away and do it herself - it'd be quicker for her to get what she wants.

By the time Frank's easing her jeans over her hips, she's back to squirming again. She doesn't like having to wait for something he obviously wants just as much as her, judging from the hard, dark shape pressing through the front of his slacks.

As her jeans are discarded, Frank looks at her with a grin, his eyebrows raised. Even that's sexy... Laurel doesn't know how she got to such a point in her life that she's finding  _eyebrows_ sexy. "Impatient, are we?" he asks, although Laurel's pretty damn sure he already knows the answer... that doesn't mean she's going to play along, however.

" _No_ ," she says, huffing. "No... I just, like I said, they're going to be back any mom-ent... oh  _fuck_ ," Laurel breaks off into a whine as Frank suddenly pushes two fingers against her practically soaking panties, rubbing directly over her clit. She's not surprised that he was able to find it first go... he's probably done this dozens of times with dozens of different women. Laurel pushes that thought out of her mind almost immediately, not wanting to imagine it.

"Frank," she says lowly. "Hmm," Frank replies, obviously too pleased at the reactions he's getting as he places more pressure to her clit, rubbing his fingers in circles. "Frank," she repeats, a little more forcefully this time. His head snaps up, dark blue eyes burning into hers expectantly. "Take off your pants," she says.

It's not fair. Here she is, left in her underwear save for the shirt that's halfway falling off her (Frank didn't even bother taking it the whole way off) and he's standing there in his pristine three piece suit, looking barely even ruffled, saved for the hard-on that's pressing against his slacks... and god, don't even get her started on his suit. She hasn't even seen him naked yet but the tailored suit (that's tailored to _perfection_ ) is pretty telling of what's to come. _  
_

But thinking about what's under his suit isn't going to help her get laid. Frank stills and doesn’t move his fingers, watching her expectantly until she swats them away with determination. This makes him smirk but then Laurel's pulling at his belt until he gives in and helps her.

He makes off with his pants hastily, not wanting to savour undressing himself like he did her. Against her better judgement, Laurel finds this charming, if not frustrating. She's pretty sure she's going to have her mouth on every inch of it when this happens again (" _if_  it happens again," she corrects herself.)

The moment Frank's pants hit the floor, Laurel's hand reaches out and rubs his hard-on through his boxer briefs. This elites a small groan from Frank. Encouraged, Laurel slides off the desk and onto her knees before she feels Frank's strong hands gripping her forearms firmly, then pulling her back up. 

"Uh uh, princess. Not today," he says, shaking his head. Laurel frowns for a moment before Frank reaches out, pushing a dark lock of hair behind her ear and kissing her gently on the lips. This is a change of pace that Laurel wasn't expecting... and it's not a pace she's entirely comfortable with either. It almost feels like  _more_... more than just whateverthehellyou'dcallit.

Laurel shakes herself out of it and makes an active decision to change the pace back. Just because she's " _Frank's girl"_ doesn't mean she's going to play by his rules. In one swift motion, she yanks Frank's boxer briefs off his hips and using all her strength (though she's 90% sure it's just because she's caught him off guard), she switches their positions so he's the one pushed up against a desk.

"Lay down," she tells him. Frank just raises his eyebrows, looking at the desk and then back at her. He almost looks amused. "Just... just do it," she says. Although Frank still looks a little skeptical, he lays back onto his elbows and watches her as she pulls them off her hips, kicking them to god knows where. She'll find them later but right now, she's just... she can't wait.

Laurel straddles him easily, framing his hips with her legs and brushing up against him. God, that feels good. Frank lets out a groan, hands scrambling for her hips. Laurel can't even contain her smile this time. "Impatient, are we?" she teases, echoing his words from earlier.

Frank looks straight at her, a blank expression on his face before his eyes light up and he smiles back at her. For a second, she's not sure why... that is, until he yanks her down hard by the hips and all of a sudden, there he is. Hot, hard and inside her.  _Finally_. 

Laurel lets out a gasp that turns into a moan, so loud she's surprised there's no knocks on the door, no neighbours asking them to keep it down. "I- I -" she starts, not quite sure what she's even trying to say, but it turns out to be useless anyway because Frank's moving his hips now with slow, teasing thrusts that make her want to claw at his shoulders and beg him to go faster. But she won't. Because as quiet as Laurel may be, she's pretty damn stubborn.

As Laurel tries to catch her breath, Frank looks at her and there's a challenge in his eyes. It's almost like he read her mind... and Laurel loves a bit of healthy competition so she narrows her eyes back. He's underestimated her... and she wants to prove him wrong. And that's why she grasps his shoulders through his crisp, white shirt she forgot to take off in her haste, and starts rolling her hips, working herself up and down, building up a faster pace.

She's not here for romance - that's reserved for Kan, lovely, intelligent Kan who doesn't deserve any of this. Frank's not her boyfriend (as much as she's beginning to want him to be), she's here for a quick, satisfying fuck. With the pace picked up, she feels her fingernails digging into Frank's shoulders (not that she thinks he minds) as her knees slam onto the wooden desk beneath them. Laurel feels a sense of satisfaction as the grunts and groans pour from Frank's lips.

Except... well, moving faster and harder doesn't just work against Frank and her  _winning_ works both ways as she feels herself being brought closer to the edge. " _Fuck,_ Laurel... You feel so fucking good.. I haven't been able to stop thinking about being inside you since... since last time," Frank groans. So he's a babbler, not something Laurel was expecting. He was so quiet the last time but she supposes they had to be. God forbid, the rest of the Keating 5 find them fucking on the porch... or worse, Bonnie.

She's not sure what would have happened if they were interrupted on Annalise Keating's porch but she can guess. Wes would have quietly backed away inside. Michaela would have called her a slut and thought she'd slept her way into the firm. Asher would have probably yelled something stupid about Frank getting some... and Connor? She imagines that Connor would have actually watched them with that cocky smirk on his face. Laurel shudders at the thought.

Her train of thought is cut off as Frank fists a hand in her hair, pulling her down so he can crash his lips up against her and his thrusts start to get more erratic. He comes inside her, growling her name low and rough in the back of his throat. The sound alone is  _almost_ enough to make her come, not quite though.

Even though his breathing hasn't steadied yet, Frank's talented fingers are all of a sudden on her clit which tips her over the edge, sending her into a hot rush of  _ohmygodyesplease **Frank**_ as her eyes slam shut and her back arches into an impossible curve, her fingernails digging so hard into his shoulders that she probably leaves marks he'll discover in the morning tomorrow.  


Laurel lets out a moan as she comes - high and sweet and never-ending - until she's left shaking from the aftershocks, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes are still squeezed shut until she feels Frank's hand, pushing a lock of hair that's clinging to her sweaty forehead.

When she opens her eyes, the expression on Frank's face is almost unrecognizable. It's not confident and sure, not like she's used to seeing. Frank's lips part, looking like he's about to say something, until they hear the telltale sounds of cars breaks screeching out the front of the house.

“Shit shit shit,” Laurel swears, scrambling off him. Frank has seemed to snap out of the moment, handing her a bunch of tissues to clean up with as he gathers their clothes that have been discarded haphazardly around the room in their haste. Laurel has just done the button up on her jeans and is in the middle of buttons up her shirt where the front door must swing open, creaking loudly.

She obviously looks panicked (because she  _is_ ) before Frank chuckles, looking composed as he helps button up the rest of her shirt. He's already dressed, of course . "I'll take care of the room, you go see the other kiddies," he says calmly.

Laurel nods quickly, going over to push open the screen doors before she slows down. She looks back over her shoulder to see Frank picking up papers off the floor. ' _Loyal,'_ she thinks. That's how she'd describe Frank. He's obviously loyal to Annalise... she wonders if one day, she might find out why. _  
_

She waits a moment before she thinks,  _"Screw it_ ," and walks over, kneeling down and lifting his chin up with her fingers. She kisses him, soft and gentle and apparently catching him off guard, before she's back on her feet. Laurel smooths down her hair (though it's probably hopeless at this point) and heads out the door to go and reunite with the rest of the "kiddies" as Frank likes to call them.

Turning the corner into the lounge, Laurel plasters a small smile onto her face. Wes wordlessly hands her a plastic container with what she thinks is honey chicken and fried rice inside it. "Thanks," she says, sitting down next to him on the lounge. She takes a deep breath, trying to relax and not give anything away.

"Are you feeling okay?" Wes leans over, asking quietly. She appreciates that Wes is good at keeping things subtle.

She nods, saying, "I'm fine. Thanks."

Wes looks at her before he nods, leaning back into the lounge and returning to his own food.

“Hey, where’s Frank?” Connor asks, looking up from his food. “I gotta talk to him about something.”

“I think he’s in the bathroom,” Laurel lies, shrugging. Even with the heat flooding her cheeks, she's trying to stay calm. She doesn't want them suspecting anything.

 Connor looks at her suspiciously before Michaela speaks up, rolling her eyes, “What, another one of your one night stands feed you some more information?”

“Feeling threatened, Michaela,” Connor shoots back with that cocky smirk of his.

“Now now, kiddies. No more bickering, it’s time to get back to work,” Frank’s voice suddenly comes from the doorway. Connor and Michaela quickly fall silent, Michaela glaring daggers at Connor as he forks more food into his mouth, looking smug. 

 Laurel looks up as everyone starts scrambling for the files, making eye contact with Frank who winks at her before walking away.

‘ _Damn him_ ,’ Laurel thinks before she grabs a case file of her own, getting back to work. She can't wait for the next time.


End file.
